


A Question of Leverage

by cmshaw



Category: due South
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-07-06
Updated: 2005-07-06
Packaged: 2017-10-05 08:01:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,736
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cmshaw/pseuds/cmshaw
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maggie shifted her knees on either side of Francesca's hips and leaned forward to press more of her weight down through her hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Question of Leverage

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the stop_drop_porn challenge.
> 
> With many apologies for running so late and much gratitude to cesperanza for the beta, I present without further ado:

Francesca groaned in pleasure as Maggie's thumbs worked into the tense muscles behind her shoulders. Her hands gripped the pillow below her chin and her skin glistened with lotion in the dim lamplight. Maggie shifted her knees on either side of Francesca's hips and leaned forward to press more of her weight down through her hands.

"Your hands are awfully strong," Francesca said, and moaned, unexpectedly sensual, under Maggie's hands.

Maggie shook her head, although Francesca wouldn't be able to see it, and said, "It's only a question of leverage."

"And so smart, too," Francesca added, with another little moan.

Maggie blushed. Groping for some compliment to return that would not sound rote, she looked down at her hands and Francesca's bare back and said, "You have very soft skin."

"Oh, yeah!" Francesca said, nearly flipping over in her sudden enthusiasm and clearly remembering at only the last moment that Maggie was straddling her. "I use like six different kinds of moisturizer. I always try and get the all natural ones, too. I think it's very important to be close to nature." She giggled. "Don't you?"

"Sometimes I feel a little too close," Maggie said wryly. "Especially when there's nothing else for hundreds of miles in any direction."

Francesca did roll over to face her then. Maggie knelt up to give her room, but she could still feel the soft skin at Francesca's waist all along the inside of her legs as Francesca twisted around and then settled back between Maggie's thighs. Her breasts rocked softly as she grinned and pushed her hair out of her eyes, and then she sighed admiringly up at Maggie and said, "Ooh, naturally rugged!" She shimmied a little and looked expectant.

Maggie laid her lotioned hands against her thighs and pressed down hard, struggling for self-control. Francesca's buxom chest was heaving. She looked wanton, like every story about bad girls in the city brought to sudden curvaceous life, and Maggie couldn't help wondering if a disdain for romance novels hadn't left a gap in her education after all. Now the sight of Francesca's bare stomach between her legs made her feel a great deal more naked than she had felt during the backrub. It was, perhaps, the dimple of Francesca's bellybutton inches from her own cunt.

Francesca grabbed Maggie's wrists and tugged playfully. "Come down here and get too close to me again," she said.

Maggie tried to frown. "I was giving you a backrub," she said.

"So give me a frontrub," Francesca said. She shimmied enticingly. "Come on, just because I'm putting you up during the Torelli trial it doesn't mean you have to be all soliciting me. I don't need that."

"I--what?" Maggie said. "You mean solicitous?"

"You know," Francesca said, "with the backrubs and all."

Maggie pulled back a little, the bed creaking as she tried to shuffle toward its foot despite Francesca's grip on her wrists. "I didn't realize my attentions were--"

Francesca huffed impatiently and hauled Maggie forward, seriously this time; Maggie lost her balance as Francesca rolled again and found herself, not entirely unwillingly, on her back underneath the other woman. Francesca's legs gripped her sides strongly, and Francesca was not shy about pressing her weight down until her mons brushed Maggie's stomach. "Look, could you just not be a gentleman, or a lady, or a, a, a Mountie for a while! You're getting way too much like your brother."

"What does my brother--"

"No," Francesca interrupted, "no way no how am I doing this again. I picked a girl this time. Girls are supposed to be smarter. I went to all the trouble of being a lesbian and I'm not putting up with this!"

"But about my brother--"

"No!" Francesca said, and she leaned down and planted her mouth on Maggie's. Her lips were wet and very determined, and Maggie closed her eyes and went with it. Francesca was a ferocious kisser, which was one of the few things she had in common with Casey. Casey had been careful and thoughtful and always a gentleman, but he had kissed her with a blazing passion. Francesca, she thought (as Francesca let go of one wrist to wind her fingers in Maggie's hair), did everything with passion. She arched her back up as Francesca moved her other hand down to stroke her thumb across Maggie's breast.

She did wonder, a little bit, whether Francesca and her brother had ever shared anything like this. From what she'd heard over the past week, her brother had certainly been popular -- he'd made several gestures toward flirting with her, even, before working out their mutual parentage. Then again, so had his partner, and now brother and partner had apparently eloped together, leaving her and the partner's sister here in Chicago to...well. To have sex for the third time tonight, it would seem.

Francesca bit the nipple on Maggie's other breast, and Maggie felt a jolt like the crack of a whip against skin.

"Are you paying attention?" Francesca asked. She ran the very tip of her tongue over Maggie's nipple.

"Yes," gasped Maggie. She dug her toes into the loosened sheets and pushed her hips up against Francesca's skin eagerly. "Yes."

"Good," Francesca said. She licked her lips thoughtfully and said, "Now, let's see. I could go down on you again. You really liked that."

"Yes," said Maggie, a little breathless.

"Oh yeah?" Francesca said. "Or, how about you go down on me?"

"That's -- yes," said Maggie. She could feel Francesca rubbing wetly against her stomach and smell her still on her hands, left lying by her face where Francesca had pinned them before shifting downward. For a moment she remembered how her ex-husband had always urged her to ride on top of him, how her ex-husband had been a liar and a criminal, how this woman had been a friend of her brother's for years and was enrolled in the police academy herself and was surely, surely safe, and then Francesca's hands were in her hair, holding her head up, and she flung all of that aside. She slid her tongue up between the folds of Francesca's labia until she found the curl of her clitoris, and Francesca groaned and bucked over her, thighs tensing on either side of Maggie's shoulders. She let go of Maggie's hair with one hand and dropped forward to brace herself on the bed. Maggie slid herself a little farther down the bed and ran the tip of her tongue back and forth.

"God, your mouth," Francesca said with a gasp. "That's what I want from your mouth--" as Maggie began a circular motion and Francesca groaned, "--I mean, not that I don't like talking to you, because talking is, oh!, talking is good, you talk really well. I just, wow, you're really good with your mouth."

Maggie closed her teeth gently on Francesca's clit; she wanted to thank her for the compliments, and Francesca's shudder confirmed that she liked that just as much as she had the last time, when she'd had both hands in Maggie's hair demanding it, demanding teeth and passion and enough muscle to pin hips to the mattress. Francesca smelled like sex, overwhelmingly of nothing but sex. Earlier in the evening Maggie had been able to smell perfumes and scents, a hint of oregano from dinner, second-hand cigarette smoke, and other detritus of city living, but all of that was gone. Clearly constant sex was the way for a country-bred Mountie to survive in Chicago -- no wonder her brother had been so popular! She supposed she owed Francesca an apology for being so slow to catch on. She slid one hand up and stroked her fingers between the slick curves of Francesca's labia.

"Oh yeah!" Francesca said enthusiastically. "Mouth and fingers, come on." Two fingers slid into Francesca's cunt easily, and Francesca's grip on Maggie's hair was suddenly painful as Francesca arched her back to push down onto Maggie's hand. Maggie gasped, jerked her hips, and worked her mouth back over Francesca's clit to moan. Pain never felt like this in the field. She moaned again, and let Francesca hold her head up as she put her other hand down between her own legs and pressed hard. It never, it never...and Francesca's cunt clenched around her fingers briefly. Maggie bucked up against her own hand and set up a desperate rhythm with the length of three fingers rubbing up and down on her own clit, the width of three fingers rocking deep and back inside of Francesca, and the flat of her tongue rasping against Francesca's clit. Francesca was breathing in deep wordless gasps now -- _This is what I want from your mouth, _she wanted to say, although she loved to hear Francesca talk, too, the breakneck hurtle along the accent as midwestern-flat as her city -- and Maggie was racing herself, trying to reach Francesca's orgasm before she was distracted by her own.

She could feel both climaxes coming, her own in the sudden clearheaded rush of blood and the one foot whose toes always cramped and Francesca's in the muscles bearing down on her hand and the frantic swing to her hips. She dug her foot into the soft sheets, pushed up, and lost the race by seconds. "Fuck!" yelled Francesca, recovering speech _in extremis_, "Oh! Oh oh oh oh oh oh...!" Maggie let her head fall back into Francesca's grip and twisted her hand to press her thumb against Francesca's clit in its place. Her body was rocking out of synchronicity with Francesca's, slower than Francesca's rapid shudders, but each wave twisted her up and wrung her out.

"Oh," Francesca said, and she lowered Maggie's head to the mattress and let go, transferring her grip to Maggie's hand and slowly pulling it out of her cunt with a soft wet noise. Maggie let her hands fall out to her sides as Francesca dropped herself onto the bed beside her, bouncing lightly and, as Maggie focused her eyes with effort, grinning widely. "Your hands are awfully strong," she said.

Maggie massaged her aching scalp with her right hand, the one not still wet with sex, and managed an answering smile. "Ah," she said, meaning a return compliment to Francesca's physicality. "Mmm," she added, with an additional compliment to her natural wisdom.

Francesca's grin turned smug. "Yeah," she said. "That's what I like to hear."


End file.
